


Rhyme and Reason

by The_Capslock_Queen



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Chatting & Messaging, Connor has a potty mouth, Evan is a wing man, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Friendship focused, Happy Ending, Jared and Michael are wing men, M/M, Michael has two moms, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Recreational Drug Use, So Much Friendship, Texting, There's Rhyme and Reason, Tree Bros, always a happy ending with me bois, because of course they are, boyf riends - Freeform, but at the start it's mostly friendship, but honestly same, he has no idea what he's doing tho, kind of, no one dies, referenced suicide attempts, that's so unhealthy guys, there's lots of ships too, this'll be fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-09 16:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12892059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Capslock_Queen/pseuds/The_Capslock_Queen
Summary: Michael really hadn't expected to find a comrade in a bathroom. But here they were. At Jake Dillinger's party, in a room that was slowly becoming more and more suffocating, bonding.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael has a breakdown in the bathroom. Luckily, there's someone there to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the hyphen overload. I acknowledge my excessive use and I will probably most likely not stop it because I love hyphens ( obviously ).  
> Anyway, Enjoy!!

“Get out of my way, _loser_ _._ ”

And just like that, Michael's world shattered. His throat closed up and his eyes were burning and he wanted to _scream_ at Jeremy – _how can you say that,_ _why are you acting like this_ _, I_ _don't deserve this,_ _I don't want this,_ _I_ never _wanted_ this, _I want you back, please_ _–_ but he couldn't. Couldn't get a single word out. So, he just stepped aside. His best friend walked past him without so much as a glance.

He slammed the door close and quickly turned the lock. Let the back of his head rest again the cool wood, feeling his chest constrict, his heart squeeze painfully, and –

Someone knocked on the door. Michael faintly recognized Jenna Rolan's voice, telling him to get out.

“I'm on my period”, he croaked.

There was a pause.

“Take your time, honey.”

And then he was all alone. In Jake Dillinger's bathroom. God, what a joke. He was such an idiot. Jeremy was right he was just – just a loser. He was nothing to Jeremy, who was everything to him. And he couldn't handle it. He couldn't. He didn't want to. He didn't want this. Why had he ever backed Jeremy up in getting that goddamned squip? This was all his fault. He should've stopped Jeremy. He should have. He _could_ have. But he didn't. And now he was moping over something he'd caused.

He was a joke.

He was an idiot.

He was such a _loser_ _._

He wanted to disappear right now.

And maybe he should, maybe he should, maybe –

A hand on his arm shocked him and he flinched back. He blinked rapidly. His vision was blurred. His cheeks were wet. He was crying. How long had he been crying for? More importantly, how was anyone in here with him? He swore he locked the door. Who were they? Had they seen everything? Oh no. They were going to tell everyone they'd found him having a breakdown. Oh god, this was bad, this was so bad –

He was sitting down now. He'd barely registered he'd been moving, or that the person now had both their hands on his arms. (He knew he wasn't leaning against the door anymore, the surface his back was pressed against cut off too suddenly. Maybe the bathtub?)

“Hey, uhm, it's – it's o – I'm sorry. You just, you needed to sit down, okay?” the stranger said.

The voice was male. Definitely male.

“Hey, I'm, I'm here. You'll be fine.” The boy took a shaky breath. “I – I need you to breathe with me, okay?”

Michael nodded faintly, his fingers curling into his hair, palms framing his face.

“In, one, two, three, four, five. Hold, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Out, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. In, one –”

He listened intently to the boy's voice and tried to steady his breathing. He tried to focus on that and only that. And it was working. After what seemed like hours but must have been only a few minutes in reality ( Michael knew how this worked, it always felt longer than it actually was ), he finally got his breathing under control. His chest didn't hurt so much anymore, and his head was clearing up.

“Are you alright now?” the boy asked after a little while of silence, shifting slightly in his spot.

Michael choked, his eyes starting to water again.

“No”, he croaked, “I'm not alright. My best friend's been ignoring me for weeks, and he just called me a loser, and he basically just confirmed he wants nothing to do with me anymore, and here I am, having a panic attack like some _moron_ _,_ and now I'm pouring my heart out to a stranger I met probably not even five minutes ago, and I'm just such a mess –”

Arms wrapped around him and he stiffened, before relaxing into the hug. Hugs always helped him calm down. Something to do with hugs triggering the release of endorphins or serotonin or whatever. Michael didn't really care about the specifics.

After a good minute ( or five ) of simply letting himself be enveloped in the stranger's arms, and him even tentatively hugging back, the boy started getting antsy and pulled away from Michael.

“I'm sorry”, the boy immediately blurted. “I should have asked before I hugged you! I kno-know not everyone likes – likes being hugged when – and I shouldn't have just –”

"It's fine", Michael said. He'd gotten his breathing back under control. "It helped. If there's anyone that should be sorry, it's me." He took another deep breath. "You probably didn't want to hear all that. And you shouldn't have had to deal with the whole panic attack thing. It's stupid..." He trailed off, eyes wandering from his knees to the tiled floor, but he quickly pulled himself back on track. "So, I'm sorry, dude."

"Please don't be sorry!" The stranger said in one breath, and then seemed to scramble back. "It's fine, I don't mind, I understand, I, um...”

Michael slowly looked from his knees to the boy. He blinked rapidly, which seemed to clear up his vision well enough, even though his glasses were now a little fogged up.

The boy crouching before him looked like a complete nervous wreck. Shaking, sweating, and giving him a smile that he knew all too well. One that was trying to come off as comforting, but utterly failed and instead came off as even more nervous. He noticed how red and puffy the boy's eyes were, and Michael felt something tug at his heart. But he tried to play it cool. He knew it would be best to not show he felt bad for the boy (he might take it the wrong way). Or that he cared. He didn't. Okay, so maybe he did. But he really shouldn't get mixed up in anybody else's business.

"Are you okay?"

Damn it, Mell!

The boy's eyes widened slightly, before he gave a watery smile.

"Not really, no..."

Well, shit.

He should have seen that one coming. And now he didn't know what to do or say.

This was probably his fault, wasn't it? Because he pushed the kid into such an awkward situation? That must be it. The boy had probably been in here before he barged in and then he'd made the kid uneasy, and – ugh, _god_. He had to apologize.

He took a deep breath and then quickly said: “I'm so sorry, I just barged in here and had a – a panic attack while you were... you were...” He slowed down, his brows furrowing. “Getting high?”

This time, the boy's eyes went comically wide and he started to sputter. “W-what? No – no! I was – wasn't getting – getting _high!_ ”

Michael blinked. He blinked again. A few more times. And then he was laughing. He couldn't help it. The incredulous, shocked look on the boy's face was absolutely priceless.

"Dude, it's _fine_ ", he wiped at his eyes and cheeks, effectively drying them, "I smoke weed, too. I don't care.”

The boy stared at him, gaping slightly, before he whispered: "You smoke drugs?!"

"Do I- wah? - do I _smoke drugs_ _?_ " Michael was wheezing a little now, and for a different reason than he was before.

Smoking drugs.

That was just, wow.

The boy's face was steadily turning a bright red. He hunched his shoulders up and tried to duck his head, hiding his face into his arm - which was in a cast. Michael wondered how he hadn't noticed before, when the boy was hugging him.

Michael chuckled. "Alright. So, you weren't getting high. Then what are you doing here?"

He saw the way the boy stiffened, how his eyes glazed over, how he looked away, and then it clicked. Michael's eyes widened.

"Oh", he breathed.

The boy gave him a sheepish smile, still looking like he'd love to disappear right then and there.

"Yeah...", he said quietly. "I was ha-having a p-panic attack..."

He scrambled to apologize, but as soon as the first syllable left his mouth, the boy was shaking his head.

"D-don't apologize. It's f-f-fine. You d-didn't know."

All he could do was feebly nod. The boy's assurance didn't make him feel any better. They lapsed into a brief silence, and the atmosphere became a little tense. Both of them had no idea what to say next. So, they just sat. The boy sometimes shifted, or rocked on his feet. He began picking at his cast. Michael's eyes subconsciously shifted over to the movement and noticed with a twinge of sympathy that the cast was completely blank. He swallowed and looked up to the boy's face.

"Can I...", he trailed off. "Can I ask what happened?"

The boy tensed. He opened his mouth a few times, no sounds coming out. His eyes looking around frantically, avoiding looking at Michael. In the end, the boy sighed, shoulders sagging.

"It's, uh. It's just, my friend - er - family friend, Jared. He..." The boy trailed off, crossing his arms as if seeking comfort from his own embrace. "He dragged me here. Even though he knows, he knows I can't handle being, being around so many p-people. I mean! I - I know I should have just said no! It's still my fault! I shouldn't blame everything on Jared, that's not fair -"

Michael gently placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, making him jump and then smile apologetically.

"I was rambling, wasn't I..?"

Michael shook his head and quirked his lips into what he hoped looked like a reassuring smile, before nodding once, urging the other to go on.

"So, uhm, he was, hang - hanging around some, uh, p-people, and they - uhm - they started making f-fun of my st-st - of my stutter, and..." He took a shaky breath. "I thought J-Jared would help... B-but he, he just laughed along, and I - I couldn't handle it, s-so I j-just ran here, and hid."

Wow, this Jared guy sounded like a dick.

Michael chuckled weakly, attempting to lift the mood a little. "Guess we both have pretty shitty friends, huh?"

"Yeah", the boy breathed, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

They lapsed into silence once again. Only, this time, it wasn't as uncomfortable. A weight had been lifted off Michael's chest, and he thought the same went for the boy in front of him. He cleaned his glasses with the hem of his shirt and closed his eyes, simply breathing deeply a few times. This almost bordered on nice. He really hadn't expected to find a comrade in a bathroom. But here they were. At Jake Dillinger's party, in a room that was slowly becoming more and more suffocating, bonding.

He put his glasses on again and hoisted himself up with help from the bathtub's edge.

"Hey", he said - although he already had the boy's attention, and said boy was staring up at him with wide brown eyes - and he cleared his throat a bit awkwardly. "I don't know about you, but I'm done with this party. Wanna get outta here?"

The boy's eyes lit up at his suggestion, before dimming again. "I can't", he said, mumbling slightly. "Jared's my ride home."

Of course. He should have known.

Michael's nose crinkled slightly. No way he was he going to leave the kid here, only to then make him go back with the guy who'd caused him to have a panic attack in the first place.

"I can drive you."

"Really?" The hopeful tone in the boy's voice tugged at Michael's heartstrings. “I - I mean! You d-don't have to! I can just -"

"I offered, didn't I?" Michael smiled down at him and extended his hand.

The boy broke out into a giant smile and gleefully accepted his hand, and his help to get up. "Thank you."

"No problemo", Michael said.

He unlocked the bathroom door, turned the doorknob, and then stopped himself. He turned to look over his shoulder.

"I'm Michael, by the way."

The way the boy looked at him should be illegal. It warmed Michael to his core.

"I'm Evan."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evan makes an entrance!!  
> \--  
> I apologize for any ooc-ness  
> \--  
> I'm not an expert on Anxiety or anxiety/panic attacks. I've been doing research because I want to understand it and be able to accurately depict it, but I'm probably not there by a long shot. If there's anything you think I need to know, please leave a comment and let me know! It'd be greatly appreciated.  
> \--  
> ( ps: If you know what the difference is between an anxiety attack and an expected panic attack, please let me know )  
> \--  
> I have a very irregular updating schedule. This is due to studying and other very important things. So this is just a head's up!  
> \--  
> Feedback in general is always appreciated! But please be kind :) Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed this first chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan and Michael drive their way home. Evan is an anxious mess, but what else is new?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He(e)re's the second chapter! I hope you enjoy!!

Was Evan really getting into the car with someone he'd met barely and hour ago?

Apparently, yes. Yes, he was.

Was this the most stupid thing he'd ever done?

No. That prize belonged to that time he dressed up as an armadillo for Hannukah and failed to delete the digital evidence.

But this idea was definitely in the top ten. Honestly, what was he thinking? His mom had always warned him to never go with strangers ( something she really shouldn't have been worried about - until now that is ). This person could be crazy! Maybe Michael was out to murder him. Michael didn't seem like the type - quite the opposite, really - but then again, murderers never seemed like the type. Evan didn't want to die like that.

Scratch what he said earlier, this plan was definitely in the top three of most stupid things he'd ever done.

Wait - no, no, no. What was he thinking? Michael definitely wasn't a murder ( Probably. Hopefully. ) He'd met the other in a bathroom having an anxiety attack for god's sake. That wasn't exactly a master plan for meeting potential victims ( or maybe it was. Evan didn't really know. Maybe it was the ideal plan- No, he was not going down that road again ).

Michael was nice. Really nice, actually. And surprisingly easy to talk to, considering. Maybe it had been in the rush of the moment, where all illogical thoughts left him and he went to help, but it had still been nice. Michael just had something about him. Something that made Evan lower his guard, even if just a little. Enough for him to admit the reason for his panic attack. And that he'd had one. Though that could be attributed to the fact Michael felt terrible about having had one and Evan had tried to make him feel better, in some strange, twisted way.

But Evan was still Evan. He was still a stuttering, anxious, awkward mess. He wasn't exactly what you'd call 'good conversation material'. In fact, he was probably the worst. He was already drawing up blanks on what to talk about. God, he had _nothing_ to talk about. He was possibly the most boring human being in existence.

This plan most certainly remained up in the top three.

"That's my car over there."

Michael's voice shocked him out of his thoughts. He blinked rapidly and snapped his gaze to where Michael was pointing. A good twenty meters away stood a slightly beat-up PT Cruiser.

Michael had parked his car far away from the other cars, which was probably a very good thing, seeing as all the others they'd passed had been boxed in by each other and if Michael had parked his car there, they would have had no way of escape.

"It's, um, it's", Evan searched for the right words. "Nice?" Definitely not the right words.

"You don't have to lie" - He'd taken too long. He'd stuttered too much. Michael was definitely offended now. He'd get in his car and drive off and leave Evan to go back to that godawful party and he'd have to wait and drive back with Jared and - "I know she looks pretty beat up, but she drives like a new car, I swear."

The tension drained from Evan again. Okay, so Michael was (probably) not going to leave him there. Good. Good. Great. He wouldn't have to crawl back to Jared after all.

Wait.

_Jared._

He had to tell Jared. He quickly fished his phone out of his pocket, fumbling with it only once. He unlocked it, having to redo the code a few times, and then went to type a text to Jared. He glanced up when he heard a shuffle next to him. Michael looked confused, if not a bit awkward, and Evan's ears burned.

"Oh, I'm - Jared - er - I have to text Jared or else he'll wonder where I am when he goes home and he might be worried, or maybe not, why would he be worried? But, um, yeah, gotta, uh, send him a text." He finished his ramble lamely. He focused all his attention back on his phone.

Great job, Evan. Now Michael was definitely going to think he was a weirdo.

He lightly shook his head. No, stop that. Don't think about it. It's fine. Well, it's not _fine_ but - just type out the message.

 

****From: Evan** **

****To: Jared** **

_Hey, Jared. I'm catching a ride home with someone. You don't have to wait up for me._

 

He hit send.

"I'm ready", he said, voice strained. He fiddled with his phone a bit longer, before (reluctantly) deciding to pocket it again.

Michael unlocked the car door after a bit of fumbling. The key didn't seem to perfectly fit into the keyhole anymore. It needed a little jamming in.

Evan pulled the passenger seat's door open just as Michael opened his, but while Michael slid easily into place, Evan tried to find the right way to seat himself. It only lasted a couple of seconds, but that was a couple of seconds too long for him.

The moment he pulled the door close, Michael powered up the radio and cranked up the volume. A reggae song came on.

"Ooh, _yes_ ", Michael cheered as he turned the key in the ignition and the car came to life, "that's my jam!"

A smile twitched onto Evan's lips.

Michael pulled back, maneuvered his way safely onto the road, and drove them away from the ongoing party, all the while humming along to the song, tapping his finger against the steering wheel.

Evan listened to the song, occasionally glancing at Michael. He found it an interesting choice of music, reggae. Not because it was bad or he hated it - while it wasn't something he particularly liked to listen to, he didn't mind it all that much -it was just that he didn't hear it very often. He didn't really know anyone that listened to reggae. Granted, Evan didn't really know that many people and he didn't exactly strain his ears to listen to what people were talking about in the halls, but still.

They drove in relative silence for a few minutes, not a word being said between the two of them.

Until Michael broke it by clearing his throat and asking: "So, um, what's your address?"

Evan stiffened. He couldn't believe he forgot to give Michael his address! Stupid, stupid, stupid-

He hurriedly told Michael his address, only stumbling over his words a few times, which was an accomplishment.

Michael hummed and nodded. "Okay, that's about a twenty minute drive from here."

"Y-yeah..."

They fell into another silence and Evan cursed his inability to make conversation once again. He should just say something. He was making things uncomfortable for Michael. But what could he possibly say? He couldn't ask about what happened in the bathroom, he was pretty sure both of them wanted to stay clear of that topic for now. They couldn't talk about what a great party it had been, either. And he certainly wasn't going to bring up the weather. Though if the silence wasn't broken soon, he might actually do it and that really wasn't something he wanted because that would be so weird. Who brings up the weather when it's dark out and it's not even raining or misty or anything of sorts? And even if it was, it would result in a ten second conversation, which he'd then have to continue, because he started that conversation and he couldn't just let it die and make things even more uncomfortable. But then he'd start to ramble and end up annoying Michael, and he'd probably say something really stupid which would only make Michael upset and -

"So", Michael's voice tore through his thoughts and he jolted up in his seat. "I haven't seen you around before."

Evan cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Uh, yeah, we d-don't go t-to the same school... I think! I'm not sure, I'm just assuming! I, uh-"

"It's cool", Michael interrupted him. "I don't think we go to the same school, either. I go to Middle Borrough High school. What about you?"

"Levenson High", Evan responded, sinking back into his seat.

"How did you end up at Jake's party, then?" Michael asked, before scrambling back. "I know this Jared guy dragged you along, but, you know..."

Evan shrugged, looking down at his lap, his hands fiddling with each other. "I'm not really s-sure. Maybe one of his s-s-summer camp f-friends invited him..."

"But why did he drag you along?"

Evan could only shrug again. "I d-don't know."

"So he dragged you along to a party, while he knows you don't like them and where you know absolutely no one, for no reason?"

"P-pretty much."

"No offense, dude, but your friend sounds like a huge dick."

Evan laughed softly. "None taken." He looked out the windshield and sighed. "Jared's just", he paused briefly, "Jared. Th-there's no other way to describe him. It's j-just how he is."

"What about your other friends?"

The question shocked a laugh out of Evan. He coughed a little afterwards, seeing Michael's mildly bewildered expression.

"I don't have any", he said. "Who'd want to hang out with" - he vaguely gestured to himself - "this?"

Their conversation dissolved into silence again and Evan cursed himself for the so manieth time.

Great. He made everything awkward again with his self-loathing. Why couldn't he have just let it be?

He sighed inwardly and let his head rest against the door's window. It wasn't comfortable in the slightest. Even a little painful when they drove over a particularly rough patch. Not that he didn't deserve that.

"Hey", Michael suddenly piped up again. "Do you want to get a slushie? I know a seven eleven about a minute from here. It shouldn't take too long."

"Sure!" Evan responded immediately, thanks to his inability to say no. Plus the want to make things up to Michael. Evan was sure this wasn't what the other boy had in mind when he asked him if he needed a ride.

He fiddled with the fraying edge of his zip-up hoodie's sleeve.

"I've, uh, actually never had a s-slushie before", he shyly admitted.

Michael gasped loudly and looked at him, wide-eyed.

"What?!" he cried out. "You've never had a slushie before?! That's blasphemy!"

"I'm sorry!" Evan laughed. He gently nudged the other. "Eyes on the road! Please!"

Michael obliged, but shook his head once more.

"This is going to be the best day of your _life._ "

Evan chuckled. "I don't d-doubt it."

Not even a minute later, they pulled up by the seven eleven. Its sign glowed bright, safe for one of the coloured stripes, which flickered occasionally. The lights inside seemed to be of the fluorescent kind, which at any other time of day would have annoyed him, but were welcome now.

They got out of the car and Michael locked it. He grabbed the handle and pulled, but the door didn't budge. He gave a satisfied nod and pocketed his keys. He strode towards the store with confidence, like he'd been there so many times before he knew it like the back of his hand and was (more likely than not) friends with the cashier. Evan trailed behind him, feeling woefully out of place.

It was quite easy to spot the slushie machine, as it stood just to their right on the opposite wall as they entered the store and it was marked with big, bold, colourful letters that read "Slurpee" - plus Michael walked straight towards it so it had to be the slushie dispenser.

"This is it", Michael announced, turning to Evan with a barley hidden grin on his face, though it was obvious he was trying to come off as serious. "The moment you've been waiting for. The moment that will change your life. Your destiny. Your future. You will come out of this experience a changed man."

He turned back to the dispenser and ran his hand past the different colours.

"Which flavour do you want, knightling? The choice is yours."

Evan chuckled. Michael's enthusiasm and theatrics were contagious, as was the grin on his face.

"I d-don't think I will be able t-to choose one", Evan said. "P-pick one f-for me, oh great one?"

"If I must", Michael sighed, an empty cup already in his hand and on its way to one of the dispensers.

"Since you're a newbie, I'll give you a basic one."

He filled the cup up with the red-coloured flavour, put the cap on, placed the straw in it and handed it to Evan. He then poured himself a slushie. A mix of all sorts of different colours, until it finally formed a miss-matched rainbow. The colours were already starting to bleed into one another by the time he put the lid on.

Evan eyed the mixture of flavours with shock, awe, and disgust.

"Hey, don't give me that look."

"Sorry." He dipped his head to look at his shoes instead. His nail scratched at the slushie's paper-plastic container.

"I'm teasing", Michael lightly punched his shoulder. "Come on. You have to try your slushie! I want to see what you think!"

Evan nodded and was about to suck on the straw when Michael stopped him.

"You have to suck really quickly. It'll taste way better. Trust me."

Skepticism rose in Evan's chest, but he waved it off. Michael was the expert here. Surely he'd know the best way to drink a slushie. Evan took the straw in between his lips and sucked. Hard. The cold substance filled his mouth, the artificial sweetness exploding on his taste buds, and within a couple of seconds he'd ingested a few big gulps. Pain jabbed in his head and he hissed, grabbing his forehead.

Michael broke down laughing. "Oh my god!" he wheezed. "You did it!"

He dissolved into chuckles a good thirty seconds later, right as Evan's pain ebbed away.

Michael held up his own cup and knocked it against his temple. "That, my friend, is a slushie-induced brain freeze. The best of the best."

"There's no better way to forget your pain." He took a large sip himself. "The best", he groaned when the pain punched in. He massaged his temples, blew out a small breath and then straightened himself out.

He nodded to Evan's slushie. "So, what do you think?"

"I, er, it's - it's really good! I - I like it."

Michael grinned wide. A grin that made Evan feel giddy, like he'd suddenly been filled with energy. He couldn't remember the last time someone had directed such a joyful grin his way.

"Great! I'm glad!"

He then turned on his heels and walked over to the counter, which was only a meter or two from the slushie machine. The cashier sat a little further back, his legs propped up on another chair, flipping through the magazine in his lap.

"Hi", Michael said simply and the cashier looked up with boredom and slight annoyance. Evan's grip on his cup tightened and he hid himself just a little more behind Michael.

"Yeah?"

"We're taking two large slushies, er, slurpees."

The cashier rose from his seat and punched the numbers in. The machine ping-ed. "That'll be 4.70."

Evan started to dig into his pockets. Dread sank his stomach. He hadn't brought any money. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. This couldn't be happening right now. He'd finally managed to not be a complete mess around Michael, and they'd shared a great moment together, and now he had to mess it all up again because he hadn't brought his wallet with him. Why did it have to be like this?

Evan gulped.

"M-Michael", he said weakly, but apparently loud enough that Michael heard and turned to him. "I, I d-don't have any - any money."

Michael blinked.

"What?"

"I'm so sorry, I didn't think before getting this, I thought I had money with me, I'm so, so sorry-"

"Dude, no, it's fine!" Michael said, placing a comforting hand on Evan's shoulder. He smiled gently, which helped calm Evan down immensely. "I was surprised you thought I'd make you pay, that's all."

Evan blinked. "What?"

Michael snorted. "Come on. You didn't really think I'd make you taste a slushie and then let you pay for it, did you?"

"Well - no, but - yes, but - no - I mean -"

"It's my treat. Don't worry about it." Michael fished his wallet out of his pocket - it was a small, round, yellow thing that didn't look practical in the least - and zipped it open.

"B-But I can't just make you pay for me", Evan protested.

"You're not making me do anything. I want to do this. Can I?"

Without really waiting for an answer - which he, honestly, wasn't going to get, seeing as Evan had no idea how to respond to that - Michael handed five dollars to the waiting cashier, who'd been tapping his finger against the side of the register for the past minute. The cashier opened the cash drawer and handed Michael his change.

"Enjoy", he said drily, and sat back down, magazine waiting for him on one of the stacked boxes.

Michael gave the cashier a mock salute and walked out, signaling for Evan to follow him. Evan did just that, trailing behind Michael like he was a kicked puppy. Not exactly the best way to describe his situation, truth be told, but he was sure that if anyone else saw at that moment, that was what it would look like to them. 

He didn't notice Michael falling into step next to him until the other bumped their shoulders together. Evan whipped his head to Michael, eyes wide.

Michael gave him a small smile. "I wanted to do this for you, Evan. Seriously." He slapped Evan's back, making him cough slightly. "Now come on and enjoy your slushie while it lasts! These things melt more quickly than you'd think!"

With a nod and a smile, Evan waited for Michael to unlock the car for them - which was arguably harder now he had his hands full. Evan offered to hold his slushie, and Michael somewhat reluctantly accepted - and then slid into the passenger seat.

The last ten minutes of their drive wasn't nearly as silent as before. In fact, it was quite filled with chatter. Admittedly, Michael did more of the talking, but Evan was proud to say he made Michael laugh one or two times.

By the time they pulled up in Evan's driveway, most of his slushie was gone. Only a small portion remained, and that had slowly started to melt.

He sighed. While he was glad to be home, he'd quite enjoyed his time with Michael, if only because the other was such an incredibly kind person. The small amount of talking they'd done had been so refreshing, even if it was brief, it was strange to soon be alone again in a quiet house.

"Tha-Thank you for the ride", he said. "And, uh, everything."

"Same here", Michael said. "Thanks."

Evan nodded and opened the door, about to step out, when Michael placed a hand on his arm. Evan turned to look at him, confused.

Michael looked a little sheepish. "Sorry." His fingers drummed against the dashboard. "Um, can I - Can I have your number?"

Evan blinked rapidly, and he merely stared at Michael for a few moments. The other deflated. "Nevermind. I'm sorry-"

"No!" Evan cried out, shocking the both of them. "No", he repeated, more quietly this time. "It's fine. Uh, give me your phone?"

Nodding more rapidly than Evan had ever seen anyone nod, Michael pulled his phone out from its spot in the hidden compartment and handed it to him.

Evan put his number in, Michael's phone had a simple lay-out so it was easy to figure out what to do, and handed it back to the other boy. He stood outside the car for a bit, and then said "Uh, well, Good- Good night!"

Michael hid a laugh behind his hand and nodded. "Yeah, good night."

Deciding that nodding would be an incredibly awkward move, Evan just shut the door and walked to his front door. He resisted the urge to look over his shoulder every other second and simply went into his house and shut the door behind him. The lights were off. Everything was cloaked in darkness and it all felt so incredibly empty. Just as expected. He'd known his mother wouldn't be home, but that didn't change the feeling he got every time he came home to a empty house.

He heard Michael drive away and sighed.

That was that.

Michael might have his phone number now, but Evan didn't expect him to text or call.

He flicked the lights on in the hall. He took his phone out of his pocket and check the clock. Almost twelve o'clock. He might as well go to bed, even though he might not be able to sleep. He wasn't able to most nights. But today had been exhausting, so maybe, for once, it might be different.

He walked up the stairs, into his bedroom, and was about to put his phone down on his bedside table when the screen lit up, and a 'ping' sounded. He furrowed his brows. Why would Jared message him at such an hour? He'd been sure Jared would stay for another hour or three, at least until 3 AM. Maybe he'd been wrong. Or maybe Jared saw his text and was just messaging him to tell him how stupid it was he left early.

Evan tapped open the message.

 

****From: Unkown** **

****To: Evan** **

_I'd love to hang out with you ;) - M_

 

He couldn't keep a grin from curling onto his face. He clutched his phone close and read the message again. And again. And again.

_Dear Evan Hansen, today was a good day and here's why..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just couldn't not put in the Holiday Armadillo. I'm sorry.  
> \--  
> Happy new Year! Have a great 2018!! ( It's still January so this still counts, right?? )  
> \--  
> tmw you're writing a tree bros fanfic and start shipping kleinsen  
> \--  
> Story Headcanon that Michael has a wallet shaped like pac man which is actually meant for coins but he loves the wallet so he just wings it  
> \--  
> I meant to get this out earlier, but stuff happened and I couldn't write on this chapter for a few weeks. So sorry for the long wait!!  
> 


	3. Not an Update || Notice

Hi, there, guys!

I'm sorry to say that this is not an update - I really wish it was, but fate isn't that kind.

As it currently stands, I won't be working on this fic until mid-July at least.

I have some major exams coming up and it's a ton of work. I've been pouring all my time and energy into studying, and I'm sad to say there's nothing else left. I haven't written on anything lately. I'm in a bit of a writer's slump. I should be out of it when I get back into a less exhausting rhythm, though! And I estimate that will be mid-July, a week or so after my last exams are done. 

That doesn't mean I'll update mid-July, though, because I'll still be working on the next chapter then, but you should come to see a new chapter end July! 

Because my life is going to continue being this hectic and draining ( I have a huge project that I have to finish before summer 2019, which will most likely determine the course of my future. Plus, I'll have to learn French by, say, October. Which means I'll have about 3 months to properly learn a language for Exams ) I'll take a week or two to plan and write future chapters so that I can post semi-regularly.

I want to thank all of you for being so patient and kind. You're absolutely amazing.

I'm so sorry that I can't put out any chapters soon. But I haven't given up on this fic yet! And I hope you haven't, either, haha.

Thanks again!

I'll see you in the summer!


	4. Very Important Notice || Not A Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An update on the future of this story

I have some good news and some bad news. A few pieces of good news and bad news, actually.

The bad news: I fell out of love with both Dear Evan Hansen and Be More Chill for many months. I had no interest in either of them anymore, and actually stepped away from the whole musical scene for quite a while. 

The good news: I’ve fallen in love again and my love's never been stronger!! I’ve been listening to the musicals again since, September, I think. Probably near the end of September, start of October, actually. That was for Be More Chill. At first I felt like I would never get back into Dear Evan Hansen, but I tried it out again, and I love it a lot!

The bad news: I won’t be continuing this story.

The good news: But I will be revamping it! I never wanted to give up on this story, but I couldn’t see a way forward. I tried. A lot. But nothing seemed to come, and everything seemed contrived. I was really sad, because I promised you guys I’d do it. I actually wanted this story to be the first multi-chapter story I completed. I guess I won’t be doing that for this exact story anymore, but I will be doing that for the revamp!

The bad news: This won’t be Tree Bros anymore. I’m very sorry to all of you who ship Tree Bros, but I just can’t seem to ship it anymore.

The good(?) news: Evan won’t be without a love interest (or, at least, that’s the plan for now). If I do give him a love interest, it’ll probably be Jared. I’m a Kleinsen shipper now, guys, I’m sorry :’’) But, since I do adore Connor still, I’m going to keep him in the story. So don’t worry about him dying or never coming up! He will be there, and probably quite prominently!

The bad news: I don’t know when I’ll start posting the Rhyme And Reason revamp. I’m an easily overwhelmed person. And when I’m overwhelmed I tend to procrastinate, which leads me to feeling even worse about things and myself. So I’m trying to keep things easy to manage. I’m constantly surrounded by Exams. Seriously. I’m a home-school kid, meaning I need to plan my exams myself, and I have to study two years worth of knowledge all by myself, having never seen it before. And these exams are pretty poorly planned on the government’s part, so I usually only have two months to study the whole thing, so you can imagine my poorly-stress-handling ass is stressed out a lot.  Plus, I don’t want to start posting again without a clear plan this time. Last time, I just wrote the first chapter and I posted it, without any real thought of how I’d write the second or third chapter, or what I would do after that. R&R (aka this story) really made me realise that I should never post without a plan or without having written several chapters in advance, because I’m putting a huge amount of pressure and stress on myself when I do that. And it’s absolutely not fair to you guys, either. So, I think it’s better if I take my time with this and try to make it best as I can before posting.

The good news: It will be posted! And when I do, I’m going to try and post regularly. I’m planning to absolutely finish this revamp. I have a small idea what I’m going to do with it, but nothing big yet. It’ll be largely based on my previous idea, but I’m going to try and make it more logical and just better plotted. I’m not entirely sure where I want to go with it yet, but I’m trying to figure it out as we speak.

 

I want to give a big shout-out to everyone who commented. Your comments always made my day. Thank you for taking time out of your day to leave me a sweet message! <3

And I also want to give a big thanks to everyone who subscribed or left kudos! It makes me super happy that you liked my story enough to want to see what happened next, or just thought you’d like to let me know you enjoyed what you read with a simple kudos :)

I also want to say sorry to everyone who was waiting for me to post that third chapter. I tried, and I tried, but it never came, and I didn't want to give you some half-assed excuse of a chapter, either. I hope you can forgive me and that you'll enjoy the revamp when it comes out! Thank you for your support!

I made a Tumblr account a few months ago. I’ve been on-and-off active on it, but I’ve been more active these past few weeks. If you have any questions, or just want to talk, feel free to drop by! ([@capisback](https://capisback.tumblr.com/))


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